Good Company
by SasuSanZoNaru
Summary: America decided to visit England, with something important, but it's too bad he catches a cold from walking around London aimlessly.  I'm not always good at this  Future USUK Rated: T  for now I think
1. Sorry

I looked up to the pouring rain watching it hit my glasses, the feel of the cool wet wall behind me; I was lost. I went around this block; at least I think it would be called a block, about ten times, because I know I've seen that telephone booth, whatever, three times. I sighed, and closed my eyes, clutching the box in my pocket, what could I tell you once I found you? Why I didn't think of this while on my probably five mile walk I'll never know, you'd probably comment it's because I'm an idiot. What would you want to hear, other then me bluntly stating I'm a moron? What could I tell you to make your obvious misery disappear, and was better then just sorry? You know I'm not good with words, so it's the only way I could honestly impress you. Or show that I did listen when I was little, that I do have manners. How do I say that I loved you more then a brother back then, in the year I started the collapsed of your first empire? So many questions, and not enough answers, as I push off the wet wall and look at the semi-crowed streets.

Quickly breaking my habit of walking around in circles, which I was probably doing subconsciously, to where I finally could tell where I was going. The lump in my throat I can't sallow, my shaky breath, how obvious could I be? I stared at the approaching door, not in nervousness, but more in fear; I'm afraid to come here now? I try to suck it up and pull my usual happy façade. This doesn't work in my knock, though I rang the bell instead, and my happy disposition springing to my face once the door opened. Trying to not notice the puffiness in your eyes, you don't cry as far as, you think, I know. "Hey, Artie!" my voice rings as I continue to subconsciously clench and unclench the box in my pocket. You blink, a bit surprised I was there it seemed, "America!" you shout, never my real name, "Get in here before you catch a damned cold!" I laugh and try to shoo your worry, not to much anvil as you pull my jacket off, which I don't do willingly. Though I settled with taking it off and hanging it on the back of your door, as you proceeded to boss me around so I wouldn't catch a cold. Though it was more then likely too late being how long I've been in the rain.

As was proven when I started to cough and my temperature began to rise. Thus you plopped me on the couch or sofa as you would say, and wrapped me up in a blanket. I watched you run around, wondering why I did this to you, though you don't cry when I'm around. As I noticed the rain started to lighten against the roof. A soft content hum left my throat; it was relaxing here for some reason. Trying to watch you still stifling a yawn, while you called someone, obviously trying not to sound worried with me so near. You don't worry about me anymore, as you show it. You seem cold and distant even if you not but fifteen feet from me, four and a half meters you would correct.

How I would love to rip my hair out over this, but I'll just be passive and act like I don't know what's going on, because that's what I always do. And there's no way to apologize for something like that. Plus you will never, neither will I, forget when I _shattered_ your heart, though you think I have selfish reasons for it. You don't know the true ones and it'll stay that way. Only because I can't take that back and I wouldn't want to, you finally see that I surpass you on some level. I'm much stronger now, and taller at that, but you could never accept it, to you I'm still a naïve child. Maybe I am, but it would be your fault wouldn't it? I sighed, and decided to close my eyes and listen, your hushed and muffled voice, it's oddly soothing. Like I've heard it so often, but I don't; maybe when I was a kid?

I hear your footsteps approach and the ghost of your hand, well light touches at least, and your aura screamed that you were breaking down. Though being me, I had to ignore it, resist the ever present urge to just cradle you, till your crying stopped. My fingers twitched, and thankfully I looked asleep to you; you were hesitant to do what you had when I was young. Instead you walk away and look out the window, unaware I'm watching as you go. You look very troubled, though I know I'm more then likely the cause, being a heavy burden on you isn't my wish. Though it's where I have to stay, and it's killing us both slowly. I wish I had your knowledge of words, just to know how I could say all I feel, but then again I'm America.

It's all traced back to me, no matter how I look at it, as depressing as that sounds. What is the constant in my life, other then you? What was the story you talk about so much, Romeo and Juliet? Didn't Juliet say not to swear to something so inconsistent? At least that what you tell me, not to swear to you by the moon, the inconsistent moon, an allusion you think I don't know. Though if I swear by you, that wouldn't be inconsistent would it? You were always there for me, right? I shut my eyes tightly and let out a noise and feel your gaze turn to me again. You think I'm having a feverish nightmare don't you? I feel your touch once again and relax almost instantly, you run your fingers through my hair. You're less rigged with your actions now as you sit on your knees, much as Japan always does. I just help but sigh contently; it's more relaxing when you don't feel rushed. Though you attention is peeled from me, more then likely due to the knock on your door, who did you call exactly?

I hear you start to walk away from me, more then likely to answer the door, and I hear familiar hushed voices. I start to head into an R.E.M. sleep, though I don't want to, as I hear the familiar voices and yours come closer. They speak to each other in a fluent language before answering you, a very neo-Latin language. Though their tongues clash in a way, but it's defiantly not English, until one of them speaks to you. Who was it? I know them, but whom; their name wasn't coming to find nor was a face. Almost like they were invisible, or I've never met or seen them. Though I hear the other's laugh and an accented English flow, more then likely France, "Mon ami, it is not good, to place a guest on your sofa." He said, making you huff slight anger, though the timid voice spoke again, who could France bring with that I knew? "Yeah, eh? Then again, Alfred is one of the bigger nations," he said in his soft voice. I could tell this troubled you, as your reminded how much bigger I am now, "I know, Matthew, and I don't have one of Kiku's fancy reclining chairs." Always so respectful, you call everyone, excluding France, by their human name, though I can't place who 'Matthew' is yet. The three of you walk away to talk to each other about what to do with me, more then likely anyway.

Though my chest starts to hurt, and not all the uncommon hurt, with you gone, but you haven't really left right? We have that special relationship your boss made, though whether you had your say in it or not you wouldn't say. How I've managed to keep awake this long, I'm not sure, but I'm defiantly slipping in and out. Though as much as I don't want to I slip into a quiet slumber, while you spoke with your new company, I'm still trying to figure out who they are.


	2. Good Company

I curiously look at you sitting on the couch a ways away; one day I hope I'm as tall as you! Your bright smile, I always grin back at you, you greet me with a tender hug always, but not this time. You've turned sour and it's scaring me, you're in a foul mood, and I'm sure it's Uncle France's fault. Uncle France came by to visit my brother, and paid me a visit too, so you didn't get the pleasure of cooking for me; nor did I get the pleasure to eat your food. I'm honestly afraid to say anything, in case you get angry with me too, though you usually apologize for yelling at me. I'm still afraid of you getting made, so that's why I've been hiding. Though it's hard to not run to you when you call me, because you've been gone for months, as unnerving as it is I stay put as you look for me. It obvious you don't realize how close you are. I froze when you looked right at me, or what felt like it, and I swore you smiled slightly and walked away and continued to search for me.

I followed after you confusedly, but caught on quickly to this game, you always are the first to say you're sorry. Though the only thing that did me in to be caught was when I ran into another room giggling. Then you stomped your feet to be intimidating, but it only made me laugh more. So you found me quickly, a soft smile gracing your face, I love it when you smile at me. Though now that you're close I noticed something, "Uwah, Arthur," I cried. You just blinked in confusion, and then followed my line of sight you started to laughing nervously. "Nothing to worry over, pet," you told me lovingly, but I still couldn't help but pity you in a way. Even if it wasn't the first time you've broken a limb it still scares me, because I think one day you'll fall apart. I've never told you that, but if I did you would think I was being silly, and tell me you couldn't fall apart.

The day went as usual after that, you were gentle and kind, also loving, and I was just innocent. Innocence I'll never lose in hind sight, because you probably wouldn't enjoy seeing that. So instead I just smile at you for I know you'll have to leave for home soon, be it today or tomorrow. You always leave me alone in that empty house for the monsters to get me. So every moment with you is god sent for me, because all the bad things go away and leave you with me. Though explaining that back then was much too hard and I would get tongue tied out of nervousness.

"I'll hate you if you leave me again England!" I shouted as you walked back to the dock, though I watched as you froze at my exclamation. You looked back at me with sad eyes, and a frustrated sigh. I could feel tears stream down my face, which probably held a pained expression. "Forever is forever, love," you said a calm voice back, and held your arms out to me, you want a hug? My body reacts on its own as I ran to you, nearly tripping over my feet on the way. "Please don't leave me," I cried in a shaky, upset voice, as I cling to you. I felt you hold me closer, which made me more confident you wouldn't go. "I always come back," you muttered to me quietly, which made me hiccup.

I looked up to the full moon with sad eyes, this time you tried to sneak out, but I followed you anyway. You looked over your shoulder at it as well a light smile gracing your lips, "Alfred, I want you to always look to the moon when you're afraid." You told me in a loving voice, which caught me, but I was still curious to what you meant by this. "Why?" I asked childishly, which made you chuckle. "Because you'll remember I'm looking to the same moon," you said placing a kiss on my temple, which calmed me down that much more. You pulled away from the embrace you created around me and kissed my forehead, before placing me on the ground. You held a finger to the captain who was more than likely anxious to leave. Then you lead us both back to my, our, home and tucked me back into bed and left.

You don't know who scary it is here when you leave, there are things scratching the windows. Howls off in the distance and things that go bump and all the scary monsters it was all so frightening? I quivered listening to all the sounds of an empty house, I couldn't fall asleep now, it was just impossible without someone here with me. Though I can't help but to vaguely remember something through the fog of my fear, as I hesitantly look to the window. Due to oddly good timing a branch scratched the window and I hid under the covers, in fear. Trying to rid myself of bad thoughts every night I'm stuck alone here. Why can't you take me with you? Why, why can't you just stay with me? Come morning I won't be as sad though, Mr. Bunny will come looking for me like he always does.

I sit and watch the ocean, from the dock you always harbor, unless you were trying to surprise me, that would be a nice surprise. "Ah mon frère, what's the use of waiting? One day he won't come back," a voice startled me. I instantly glared at them, Uncle France, what did he know? I merely pouted and ignored him, to the best of my ability, then he sat next to me, "I would know, dear Arthur used to-" I quickly cut him off; "You're a liar!" I shouted not even caring that much. My glare and pout intensifying though the Frenchman seemed caught off guard. "Arthur says you aren't trust worthy, and I believe _him_," he spat venomously. He simply stared for a few moments and sighed before standing and looked to the ocean. I did the same and listened to you seemingly thoughtful footsteps, still staring to the ocean as the sun started to set. I would wait all night I was so frustrated and didn't care to think.

You would come back, you always did, and you wouldn't leave me right? France is just trying to scare me, he always is. I think it's just because he's scared of you he wants me or Matt to go to him now that your empire is so big. "I won't leave you if you never leave me," he muttered to the sky, but in my mind I was talking to you. You are my sky, even if you don't know that, because you would just call me silly. Even if I know fully well what it sounds like I'm saying. I learn more every day without you, but too much change would surprise you I know that. That's why I simply just grow taller and act much younger then I really am. Simply because you can barely accept how much bigger I am, I care too much to make you upset. You and I will be together, forever just wait, I know France is wrong!


	3. Comatose

I stared down at you, you looked so hallow and I decided you weren't crying and your face was only wet from the rain. Even if you had your hands over your eyes and were rubbing them, oh how pitiful you looked, it was nearly saddening. "You used to be so big," I muttered even if I didn't mean to, my heart wanted to hold you tight and coddle you. Mutter sweet nothings till you were to stop crying, but my brain over powered that with, "you're free". I'm free of you, my sick unhealthy obsession. You can't control me, I'm victorious, and I've won against the largest empire at this time in history. It would seem France was right about one thing, you wouldn't be mine forever. Just no one thought it would be me to break away; I suppose I should thank the wine bastard for his help against you. I almost feel the need to spit, more to just be rude but I decided against it and walked away. The farther I got away from you, the better off I would be, and I had to do something to get away from you. Though as hard as I try my heart won't let me forget how much I love you, and how just walking the opposite way from your sobs freeze it more.

The colder the better, it meant I could detach from Europe entirely now, I could isolate myself, and no one could go against that. I try not to look over my shoulder as your remaining soldiers lift you of the ground and walk you away from me as well. I stop walking and look up to the pouring rain and force a smile to my face; this is how my façade began. I know not many will be my friend now and nor will they go to war with me simply for I beat you. It's an unspoken respect I know I'll receive, but I try not to think about it as I tell my boss of our victory. I am my own nation, but we're still so close it makes me feel claustrophobic. I convinced my boss we have to go westward. That was my goal to focus on lands I didn't know. I would go west, as far west as I could possibly go, just to breathe again.

My only thoughts for a long time were westward till I hit another sea, but I still felt like I couldn't breathe, it felt like I could never truly escape you. It felt like you were just everywhere, behind me, in front of me, on my mind and in my heart. Why can't you leave me alone! My pitiful unhealthy obsession, please just leave me alone! I can't do this anymore, I don't want this freedom, and I just want you! Though I can no longer have you, I've broken you haven't I? I've shattered your heart entirely, which only in turn breaks me. I couldn't handle this break inside of me; I needed something else to distract me.

I'm so swallowed in my isolation, that I can't think straight, since no matter what you're in my head somehow; if I want to get away, if I feel alone, and even when I can't find something to do. I wonder if you still care if I'm alive or not. Why wouldn't you? I might be paranoid, I don't know, or maybe I'm right, you could care less about me now right? I'm not a part of your family anymore; I made that clear when I declared independence? I think you took the Revolution the wrong way, because I just don't want to be seen as your little brother anymore. Like I said, it kills me to be stuck in a position like that; it belittles me to think I'm nothing more to you. Please, don't do this to me; you should know I can't keep this up forever.

In the haze of my mind my boss seemed to free me of you for a bit, when he said the Confederacy and the Union were to go to war. Though he tried his best to explain why this had happened, but I waved it off, I didn't need to know. It was just the perfect distraction. I fought with the Union simply because my heart was with them instead of the Confederacy. But I ended up more wounded then any of my soldiers, for after every battle it was my land that was scared. I would laugh and wave off the nurses, telling them I would be fine; though it would take a while. I didn't think of the consequences of fighting on my own soil, which is defiantly a bad thing.

By the Battle of Shiloh I was to worn to fight anymore, and the Confederates gained ground, thank heavens for reliable generals. Of which one the battle for us, with tactical strategy, at least after I could no longer support them. But watching the final battle of the war hurt more than being in them, being I felt the pain and heard about it later. Though that short period didn't keep you off my mind once it was over, it was almost useless, I needed you here. I could never wake up from the nightmare that was reality, unless you were here. Thus why I hide behind a fake smile, to keep the demons away and thinking that one day I'll wake up and you'll be here with me. Then I guess I would never wake up from this and I'll just slowly recover my shattered nation. I feel so numb now, after I lost you and basically beat myself up; as hard as that is to fathom. Damn France was right, you left me haven't you? Only because I said I didn't want to be your colony anymore? Do I have to be a colony to have a relationship with you?

I'm seriously thinking way too much, I need to stop; it'll all kill me in the end. I don't know how I can stop, you raised me, and your memory is imprinted. Maybe if I was to shove all my memories in a closet, and never went in it, would I be free of all this confusion?


	4. Your Call

I came as soon as I heard, but I felt a bit too late, at least when you passed out upon my arrival. But I'm still debating it as surprise of exhaustion. Though you over worked yourself as it was explained to me, so I went with exhaustion. I couldn't let that dumb German get stronger; I had to help the allies for you were all getting weaker it seemed. Though we had tried to stay out of the war, Ludwig took it a bit far with his letter to Rosa*. Though I started out as little help, but I had to draft those men. Though it seemed you and France didn't mind my contributions, though it felt like you waved me off mostly.

I wanted you to acknowledge me again; I want you to speak to me, though you and France are always in the corner talking. It seems only France includes me in your conversations, though you don't speak afterward. Did I really hurt you this bad that you won't even speak to me anymore? I just continued to smile when you were near; I just wanted you to stay there, though I don't think all the friendliness in the world will mend your heart. I hid mine from you, from everyone; for you wouldn't stay alone with me from more then maybe ten minutes. Stay with me you dammed Brit; it would be a lot easier to be a mind reader, so I would know what you wanted me to say. It seemed that he** cared more about what I thought then you did, he and I would talk for hours.

Soon Austria tried to give peace, secret from Germany of course, though he found out and political "disputes" occurred between them. Then Germany went back on offense, and he gained a lot of ground on all of us; France is useless sometimes. Thankfully the assaults were put to a halt thanks to Australia. Then we all easily drew them back to their starting line, and Ludwig's attacks seemed to get hesitant, like he no longer wanted to fight anymore. The next I remember what November eleventh 1918, the day we all agreed to just stop fighting and killing one another.

When I returned home, I enjoyed what was named the "Roaring Twenties", nothing but blue skies were smiling at me; as the song went anyway. Everything seemed so bright after that war, it made me forget about you for awhile; I could enjoy life for once. I had friends, I had success, what more could I ask for? All his blue days were now gone, nothing but blue skies from now on. The government then tried to prohibit the sell of alcohol, what idiots; it was the best time for me, who wouldn't want to drink! Women gained the right to vote and plenty of other Amazing things; but my favorite was the music.

The Jazz Age as it was titled; there was nothing better then going down to New Orleans and listening to the people play. It brought a genuine smile to my face, for the first in a long while, everyone was happy in my country. It was blissful to say the least, and we were getting a new president soon, everything was just exciting about being back home.

Sadly the excitement was very short lived as the twenties progressed, the month of October 1929, the stock market crashed. It felt more like my world was ending; I started to doubt myself, that maybe I really couldn't handle myself without you. I quickly shook that feeling off and just decided I best listen to my boss, Hoover. He had plenty of good ideas, though none of which worked, my economy was recessing, though it effected more then just me, as I found out later. The unemployment rate reached an all time high, then the Dust Bowl in the plains, so desperately I reached out to you. You simply told what was happening, and that it's happened to you before, that I should man up and deal with it myself. It felt like my heart broke in two, the one time I actually went back to you; you don't even want me back do you? I felt like I was the little kid I was before you ever came to claim me as your colony, though like I was stuck in pitch darkness. I was waiting for you to come to me like you did before, to call my name and tell me everything was okay.

I sat alone, secluded, in my home, not willing to speak to anyone, I wanted to be alone to think. Though the only though that came to mind was you, as my economy went for broke; I only wanted you to comfort me. No one else would do really, though maybe he could, but I would still be thinking about you. I couldn't stand being your brother, but not being anything but another nation was too heartbreaking. I really never should have listened to the damned Frenchman; the epitome of romance only had his romance in his mind. He just wanted me out of the picture to get you with didn't he? You'll agree simply because it fills the void of me not being there; god please tell me I'm wrong! There's no way you'd agree to that right?

Maybe now's a good time as any to start putting all my memories somewhere, just so they no longer haunt me like you do. I guess it would be better to watch my country then the Atlantic, but it's the only thing that separates you and I, isn't it? The one barrier ever since my isolation period had ended, maybe it would have been better off without helping out in the World War. Maybe I would have been better off were I just to listen to father*** and stay out of European affairs. All you guys ever did was being me troubles, as well as yourselves; like scornful siblings.

*Rosa is Mexico… Gettysburg Address yeah…

**He with out any indication of who is usually going to be on of our favorite Allies, da~?

***Father is George Washington – "Father of our Country"


End file.
